You're the Clan Head

The chill surged upward against the flow of his meridians. Everywhere it passed, his blood nearly froze solid, and a thin layer of white frost spread over his right arm from his fingertips to his shoulder.

This was the true strength of the Shui Clan's head.

If those people from Spirit Hall had truly failed to recognize the situation yesterday, then this clan head really had been confident he could keep them here.

What nonsense about not killing envoys when two nations were at war...

All bullshit.

As if not killing them meant there would be no war.

But Shui Yuanbo did not stop.

He continued forward, one step at a time. He was not fast, but every step shortened the distance between them.

Each step sent out icy-blue ripples. Thin ice formed over the ground wherever they passed, reflecting the candlelight in a cold, biting gleam.

Every step seemed to land on everyone's hearts.

The clan elders all understood that the clan head was establishing his authority.

And the first one he cut down was his own younger brother.

Still, it was no surprise. Put in terms of a nation, Second Master had begun selling out his country. Did he really expect the emperor to treat him kindly?

Shui Yuanming's three sons behind him wanted to move, but the invisible pressure of cold nailed them in place. They could not even lift a hand.

Shui Yuanming gathered all his strength and unleashed another soul skill.

This time, he held nothing back. His eighth soul ring lit up, and a phantom ice flood dragon burst from his chest, opening its jaws to bite at Shui Yuanbo's throat.

Eighth Soul Skill, Cold Flood Dragon Devours Heaven.

You want to play rough? I can do that too.

*Don't worry, Big Brother. I'll